


How To Tell If A Girl Used To Be On MySpace, In One Easy Step

by Moondragon8



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, many many many emo song title references, too many. really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moondragon8/pseuds/Moondragon8
Summary: Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you are fairly certain your new coworker used to be your MySpace crush.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	How To Tell If A Girl Used To Be On MySpace, In One Easy Step

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you can never escape your emo kid past](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815393) by [le2biian (ClockworkDinosaur)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/le2biian). 



> So I read the fic this was inspired by and it was SO GOOD, but I had this nagging thought that the prompt would have worked far better for Rosemary than Davekat. Hence...

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you are...comfortable with your new job.

A bookstore is not the worst place to work. You like books, and it’s fun to help young children find books that you know they’ll love. Plus, the manager lets you have an LGBTQ+ section, and you have pretty much free rein of the place. The downside is that it’s in a mall, which means that you don’t venture outside the bookstore often. Too much craziness for you, thanks. And the music is terrible.

“Hello,” a voice says, and you startle. It’s barely past opening time, and someone’s already here? That’s rare. Your bookstore isn’t the most popular.

“What can I help you with?” you say, glancing up. 

Oh. It’s a girl.

A very beautiful girl, and one that appears to be about your age.

“I’m the new employee here,” she says. “Are you an employee as well, or merely intruding to read these books?”

Well, fuck.

Rose Lalonde, as you discover her name to be, immediately sets about inspecting the bookshelves and generally performing basic tasks as the two of you wait for the customers to begin trickling in.

“Do you come here often?” you ask, and immediately blush at how forward that sounds. Thankfully, Rose doesn’t seem to notice.

“No, I’m not really the mall type,” she says, carefully smoothing the pages of a book. Her fingernails are painted black. She reminds you of someone, but you can’t figure who.

“Yes, I can see that,” you say.

She glances up and flashes you a smile. Her lipstick is a lovely lavender shade. It matches her eyes. “Did you start the LGBTQ section?”

“I did,” you say. Rose looks pleased at this.

People begin trickling through the mall, and Rose glances out the doors of the bookstore. “Ah, I forgot Hot Topic was over there.”

Your mouth quirks up at the corners. “Oh? And I thought you said you weren’t the mall type.”

Now it’s Rose’s turn to look flustered. “I’m not, I just-“

“Just another LA Devotee, I take it?” you say, leaning across the counters.

A brief look of recognition flashes across Rose’s face before she puts the book back and turns to face you. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I would never stoop so low as to shop at Hot Topic, of all places.”

Her face definitely looks familiar. And even if your smaller hunch isn’t true, you know one sure way to tell if your larger hunch is.

The manager also lets you control the music.

You start with something nice and peppy, a more modern song. Rose seems to relax, thinking the line of questioning is done.

Next, you test her with All The Small Things. She hums along a bit, but that isn’t conclusive.

Still, nobody has entered the bookstore, so you decide it’s safe to pull out the big guns.

Rose is putting books left out back on the shelves when blink-182 fades out.

There is a moment of brilliant silence.

And then a note plays.

Rose drops the book on the floor and whirls to glare at you. Despite the poignant piano still tugging at your tear glands, you burst into laughter.

“How  _ dare  _ you,” she says.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, smiling widely as the singing begins, “did I damage your black eyeliner?”

“That was a low blow, Kanaya Maryam,” she hisses.

“I’m sure you’ll carry on,” you say. You are enjoying this deeply.

“Turn off the accursed music,” she says, pointing at you. An older woman pokes her head in the bookstore and quickly retreats.

“How dare you insult My Chemical Romance like this!” you exclaim. “Have you no heart, Rose Lalonde?”

“No,” Rose deadpans.

“Ah, good, then you’ll adore this song,” you say. “The guitar bits are coming up.”

“Turn it off and I give you my MySpace username,” she says.

You gasp. “How did you know I never deleted my account?”

“You were sitting the whole time I’ve been here, but the minute Black Parade came on you stood at attention.”

“Touché. So, your username?”

“TentacleTherapist. And you?” 

“GrimAuxiliatrix. Wait, really?”

“Yes, really, why?”

“I followed you,” you say in mild awe. “I quite liked your profile, in fact.”

Rose fumbles with the phone to turn it off. “Please don't remind me of my terrible life choices.”

“No no, quite the contrary! I recall you being a bit of a...heart attack in black hair dye, so to speak.”

Rose smiles at you. “Why, thank you for the venom.”

“ _ Ahem _ ,” says a middle-aged woman from in front of the desk. “Are you going to let me buy my book or not?”

“Sorry,” you and Rose say at once.

By the time the store closes, you haven’t talked with Rose much, but she’s proved herself a great worker.

“Well, see you tomorrow, then,” Rose says.

“Wait!” you say impulsively. “I was thinking perhaps you’d like..”

Rose waits.

“One night? One more time?” you say hesitantly. Please let this work…

“Thanks for the memories,” Rose completes with a grin. “Are you suggesting we go explore a graveyard, perhaps?”

“If you like,” you say. “Although there’s several good eating establishments in this town.”

“Sounds lovely,” Rose says, “although I’m compelled to inquire if this is a date, for as you know, love’s just a joke.”

“Ah, but we’re comedians,” you say, stepping out from behind the counter. “Anyway, it’s not so much a date as an invitation to be...alone together.”

Rose holds out her hand delicately, and you take it. “Well, dear Miss Maryam, count me in.”

“All Time Low now, are we?” you say as the two of you move out. “Getting classy.”

“Only the best for you.”


End file.
